


The Black Swan

by Rahar_Moonfire



Category: 12 Dancing Princesses (Fairy Tale), Fairy Tales & Related Fandoms, Original Work, Swan Lake & Related Fandoms
Genre: Alternate Reality, Alternate Universe - Dragons, Alternate Universe - Shapeshifters, Consensual Possession, Dreamwalking, Elves, Fae & Fairies, Fairy Tale Retellings, Hive Mind, Multi, Possession, Reality Bending, Shapeshifting, Soul Bond, direwolves, gunmage
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-19
Updated: 2015-09-19
Packaged: 2018-04-22 10:57:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,286
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4832831
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rahar_Moonfire/pseuds/Rahar_Moonfire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A young kingdom flourishes under just rule, but people have slowly begun disappearing. An evil sorcerer slowly gathers power by stealing the magic's living sources and draining the life from them. A traveler from another world arrives unexpectedly and stumbles into something disturbingly like a fairytale he use to know. Why can't he wake up?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which a wish is made.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **A/N:** This will be a darker and more mature twist on the 12 Dancing Princesses and Swan Lake fairytales. Just as a fair warning, there will be some dark themes, mature scenes, questionable sanity, some gender fluidity among shapeshifters, and varying sexual preferences in this as the story progresses.
> 
> That said, enjoy~

I was not the first, but I was nowhere near the last. Many came after me, but most did not survive the change. Those that did, those _few_ that did, hold on to each other like anchors to keep a grip on reality. I sometimes wonder if I'm even really missed. I was hated in my home country. But now that I'm gone, have the people moved on? Have they forgotten me?

And what about the others? What of them? They call me their chosen leader, their protector, their mother...but am I really? Am I what they wanted? What they expected? What they needed? I certainly hope so and I will continue to do my best to fulfill my duty.

But is it worth it?

We are, every one of us, captives after all. Doomed to our imprisonment with escape's door hanging open on loose hinges but with our legs chained to the metal bars. No matter how far we run, we will always end up back here. No matter how many tears we cry, it will never be enough. No matter how hard we try, we will never truly be free. All we can do now is face the wind and live, while we can.

I will watch after my flock, my family, and protect them from the wrath of our captor for as long as possible. I will break our bonds. I will break this curse.

Even though I know I will die doing so.

You see, it's worth it, because I care about them, my friends, my family, my flock.

It's just, what I would give to have my only wish granted before I die.

I want to love and be loved. That's all. Then I can die in peace without regret. Forever grounded.

This is my one and only wish.

* * *

 

_"I can grant that wish, for a price ."_

~The Green Lady  
 


	2. Mikael - Arrival

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which a visitor arrives and unexpectedly gets a job.

_Screeching. Screaming. Shock. Crashing. Broken metal. Pain! Blackness._

_...Silence..._  

* * *

 

 

Violet eyes opened only to snap back shut with the intensity of the light shining into them. Mikael winced and groaned as he forced his heavy, achy body to roll over planting his hands on the grassy earth he lay on. Cautiously, he opened his eyes once more only to sigh in relief when the shadows dimmed the light from the sun.

The sun.

_Crap!_

Instantly awake, the young man sat up and scanned his surroundings. Rolling hills covered in the greenest grass he'd ever seen. Daisies and wild flowers waved in the cool, pleasant breeze bringing soft, puffy clouds floating along in the deep, sapphire sky. A brilliant sun shone down on the land and the dirt path just a yard or so from the youth. The leaves on the trees above him rustled in the breeze causing the sunlight to flicker and move like a living thing.

Daylight. Definitely daylight.

The purple eyed youth took a deep experimental breath as his hands slipped down to his belt feeling for what he desperately hoped was there, and exhaled in relief. His guns were still there, thank heavens. He looked down and smiled at the dark metal gleaming dully from his holsters.

That settled, the youth continued to scan himself. Tan shirt and brown leather pants that flared a bit at the bottom freeing his ankles to split second movement, the ragged edges being the result. Check. Leather belt with guns in holsters. Double check. Long, dark brown cloak he got from Draconia. Check. The brown leather messenger bag his mom gave him on his first day in high school. Check. Goggle from his fellow Gliders to block the winds at high altitudes. Check. Everything seemed in order except for one thing.

When did he fall asleep? What had he been doing? What _had_ he been doing? He could have sworn he had been doing something important.

He shook his head dismissing the thought. It would come to him eventually. Probably when he woke back up. But for now, he had things to do, places to go, and the nearest Glider base to track down.

He had must have fallen asleep somewhere along the way and ended up here, not that he was complaining or anything. Quite the opposite actually. He had spent a lot of time here when he was younger learning the ways of the land and building up an identity for himself with the help of a friend. It had taken some doing and the personal recommendation from Rahar, but Mikael was now a traveling _savidad_ and member of the Glider Clan.

Well, enough with the observing, time to get moving. Forcing himself to stand up, the youth winced as he felt his joints pop back into place. Apparently he had woken up in a less than comfortable position. Fabulous. He would be achy and thus uncomfortable all day today. But now was not the time to think about that.

He stepped up to the road and considered his options. Left or right? That was the question. Whether to travel left towards what appeared to be downhill or right towards the city. He blinked. Wait a second. That city had not been there the last time he was here. He would swear to it. There had never been anything there except more hills, a few ponds here and there, and then the White Mountains.

Seriously, what the heck? How long had he been gone? He knew time passed differently for him than it did for this world, but for a whole city to have been built? Scratch that. A whole city and a castle? What?

Well, no time like the present. He was here, so why not investigate? Shrugging to adjust the strap of his bag, he unbuckled his holsters from his belt and put them in his bag. He had learned from experience that walking into an unfamiliar city with weapons blatantly on display would guarantee him one of two things: suspicion or being "escorted" out. Or, if he was especially unlucky, both.

Shaking his head to clear his thoughts, Mikael turned to the right and began making his way towards the city on foot. He needed to work the ache out of his muscles and gliding would have done nothing for that. It was actually a lot farther than he'd originally thought. It just appeared to be closer because of its size. It was huge and sprawling. But it was the castle that drew the eye. It was tall and elegant, the classic fairy tale castle. Banners of green and white flew from the turrets.

Green and white. Why did those colors seem familiar? Realization hit him and he literally stopped in his tracks and stared, his jaw nearly falling to the ground. Hemdoria? Hemdoria was its own country now? Hemdoria was its own country with rulers and everything? The whole shabang? The youth whistled in amazement. He was certainly impressed.

He ran his hand through his cropped brown locks in amazement. Good grief! How long had he been gone? _No rest for dreamers, I guess,_ he thought wryly.

The castle was modest; nowhere near as big as many of the fantastical palaces Mikael read about in children's books. But it was workable and a pleasant combination of wood and stone. It was reminiscent of the ancient cities long buried beneath the earth back home. Given time, Mikael was sure this would become one of those fantastical palaces.

The city itself was quaint, if a bit crowded. But in its defense, it appeared to be Market Day, so he guessed that forgave the sheer number of people. He let his eyes wonder from carts filled with fruits and vegetables, to stands covered with cloth and trinkets, to the lovely young men and women staring at the cloth and trinkets.

He smirked at the sight of the Magi in their deep blues making their stately way to and fro while the less elegant, younger trainees in their sky blues literally darted here and there like bees among a field of flowers. Things seemed to have gone well for this tiny country.

Now he just had to look for a tavern or preferably an inn. He did not have too much money on him, but hopefully he could barter his services in exchange for some food and shelter. Most places he visited tolerated such exchanges. Hopefully, he could find an inn here that did the same.

Of course, there was nothing stopping him from wandering around town first. It was never wrong to get the lay of the city before settling in. The market place was full of people. The tall fountain in the center of the city square sprayed water up into the air drawing attention. Mikael knew he was a newcomer, a stranger in this once familiar and welcoming world. But he would his best not to stand out more than he already did. For now he would have to settle for what he had and at the moment he had an interest in the silks that were on display and the guitars in the stand next to it.

"Could I look at the blue bolt please, ma'am?" he asked politely.

The woman manning the stand stared at him for a moment in surprise before smiling warmly and handing him a sample. "Of course. A fine choice son. Matches those lovely eyes of yours. It's-"

"Spider silk. Silk woman with a weave that is so delicate and so strong it's almost see-through. But powerful enough to wear under armor and not be torn easily," Mikael finished.

The woman's smile widened, impressed. "Indeed. You certainly know your silk."

"No, not really," Mikael laughed. "I just knew someone who wore this all the time. It was hi-" He caught himself, blushing. "Yeah."

The woman gazed at the young man taking in the blush and her smile softened. "Of course, son," she said gently. "Heaven knows we've all had lovers or will. Past or present, painful or happy, we can't escape them. All we can do is go on taking two steps forward and one step back. It's a long, slow process but in the end you feel better for it."

Mikael blinked and removed his hand from the fabric with a wry smile. "Heh. You're wiser than you appear, my lady."

The woman is motherly side vanished, replaced by a sly tease. "Well I am a woman after all," she said happily. "I've had my share of suitors myself, son. I'm not that old yet." She giggled girlishly and Michael couldn't help but join it.

"I hope you don't mind me asking," Mikael began awkwardly, "but you wouldn't happen to know of a place to stay." He scratched his head. "I'm new to the area and I'm hoping I can find a place to sleep, maybe even earn some income while I'm here."

The woman chuckled. "I knew the instant I saw you, you weren't from around here," she said shrewdly. "You dress oddly and I've never seen anything like those ridiculous things around your neck before," she added pointing to the goggles dangling from the leather strap around Mikael's neck.

"Oh, these?" Mikael slipped the goggles over his head and handed them to the woman for her to examine. "They're called 'goggles,'" he said. "They do a lot of things but their main purpose is to protect my eyes."

"From what?" she asked, running her fingers over the brownish glass, copper, steal, and leather.

"Any number of things," Mikael answered. "These are aviator's goggles so they were designed mainly to protect my eyes from high winds. But they also work to keep water out of my eyes if they're tight enough, block out some sunlight so everything isn't so bright, and just generally protect my eyes from being poked out."

The woman hummed, intrigued. She handed the goggles back to the young man keeping her curious gaze on them. "Where did you get them?" she asked.

"Oh, just about everyone from my Clan has a pair," Mikael answered with a shrug. He took the goggles and slipped them back over his head so they hung from his neck. "Or two," he added, "or three, or whole collections. It depends on who you ask. Here," he said.

He pulled the goggles up so the rested over his eyes and tightened the leather strap so they fit snugly over his face. "This is how they look," he said.

"I've never seen anything like that before," the woman said, studying the goggles with open interest.

"Never?" Mikael asked in disbelief. "I've never met a Glider who didn't at least have a pair of goggles somewhere nearby."

"Gliders!?" the woman gasped. "You're a Glider?"

Mikael winced. "Ah, yes ma'am," he said holding up his hands. "Don't raise your voice, please," he added hurriedly. "I'm not really... I mean I don't have any news or anything to trade so I'm kind of useless at the moment." He flushed in embarrassment. "I actually just got here so if you could point me to an inn or something, that'd be great."

"Of course," she said. "Head back towards Fountain Square," she said, pointing back the way Mikael came. "The Black Swan Inn should be on your left."

"The Black Swan?" Mikael asked. "Really?"

The woman waved her hands dismissively with an exasperated huff. "It's the latest interest these days," she said. "Apparently there's this black swan flying around attracting hunters and all that nonsense."

"A swan?" Mikael repeated. "People hunt swans? Why? They're overrated and vicious too. I mean, geez, have you seen those nasty things? They look all nice and innocent until you breathe in their presence and then it's take- _that_ -you-worthless-human attitude." He shuddered as the woman laughed at his antics.

"My, you certainly do talk strangely," she laughed. "It's certainly amusing. And personally I agree. Swan hunting is not the wisest thing in the world. But then again," she shrugged, "when were boys wise, hm? Present company excluded, of course," she added with a wink and grin.

"Why of course," Mikael replied, placing a hand over his heart in mock sincerity as he chuckled. "Well, I have to head out. Thank you for the talk. Have a great day."

"Thank you for the entertainment, dearie," she called after him.

"My pleasure," he answered, waving.

The Black Swan Inn was not the best looking place in the world, but it was cheap and that was what counted. Mikael had not asked for directions to the inn solely for the sake of curiosity. Inns and pubs tended to be the center of local and foreign activity to an extent. Mikael needed a job and if anyone knew where to find one, chances were they would most likely be at the inn or pub. He was practically broke. All I had was a few coppers in his pocket, just enough to get something to drink. If he could not luck out, then he would probably be sleeping on a nearby roof or something. At least it would not too cold outside that night, hopefully.

He settled in an empty seat at the bar and cradled his water in both hands, sipping it with pleasure. It was not coffee, but it would due for now. He would track down his caffeine fix later. In the meantime, he took the chance to listen to the conversations around him.

It seemed Lady Luck had not abandoned him yet.

"It's true, I say," the man a couple stools to the right insisted. "I'd swear by it. I heard the duke's young nephew vanished as well. And according to the maid, the princesses have been acting strange."

What?

"What?" the stout bartender gasped inadvertently echoing Mikael's thoughts as he leaned over the bar intrigued. "Him too? How many does that make, d'you think?"

"I'd say that makes ten now, counting the nephew. I don't like this, I tell ya," the storyteller insisted, taking another drink. "In fact, as soon as I can, I'll be packing my bags and leavin' the city tomorrow. Goin' to see my sister in the foothills. The gardens can do without me. I'd like to keep my own body where it belongs. With me."

Well, here was a puzzle. Mikael so enjoyed puzzles.

"Excuse me, gentlemen," Mikael said, standing from his seat and walking over to join the men. "I was wondering if any of you knew a place where I can get a job?" he asked. "I'm new here and, well..." he let his words hang in the air as he scratched his head in slight embarrassment.

"Well, heaven save me," the storyteller exclaimed. "If that's not a sign from above, then I don't know what is. Aye, lad. You good with plants?"

"Yes, I used to garden for my mom all the time," Mikael answered with a smile. He had a little baby bamboo plant that he liked to coddle too in his spare time.

"Good. You can take my job," the storyteller said definitively.

"A-what?" Mikael stuttered in surprise. "That's...um...sure, yeah, I'll take that. Thank you. You sure?"

"As sure as I can be," the storyteller said, nodding emphatically. "The name's Jaffery by the way. Care to start now?"

Mikael's mouth worked for several seconds before he could speak properly. This was all moving rather fast. "Sure," he answered impulsively. "Sure just, just let me finish my drink."

"Come along then," Jaffery said, chugging the last of his own drink forcing Mikael to follow suit with his water. "I'll take ya to my boss," Jaffery said, standing. "Nice fellow, really. If a bit odd. Right this way."

Without waiting for Mikael to pause, Jaffery led the young man down the streets and straight through the castle gates before turning aside. Mikael had to consciously keep walking as he stepped through the castle gates from a bustling city and into a world of calm, color, and life. He could hardly believe it.

"The castle gardens?" Mikael breathed. "You work at the _castle_ gardens?"

"Actually," Jaffery said, "they're the city gardens. Anyone is welcome. We just take care of it."

Mikael nodded distractedly. He had never seen this many flowers in one place except for the Vale of Flowers. Mikael focused his attention to his incredible surroundings. Roses of many colors wove around trellises and grew in perfectly pruned bushes. Strange. Where're the blue roses? he wondered absently, gazing at the other flowers around him.

Weeping cherry blossom trees and regular cherry blossom trees were just beginning to bloom. Wisteria hung from the walls and the trellised top of the covered walkways and gazebos. Hardy daffodils were already in full bloom and waved in the breeze. Bleeding hearts and even lilies of the valley dotted by the occasional daisy.

But it was the belladonna that captured and held his attention. The deadly nightshade. As if pulled by an invisible force, Mikael's feet deviated from the path and took him unerringly to the deep purple flower. Gently, he cradled the bell-shaped blossom in his palm. The deep violet petal were so dark in shade they almost appeared black. The natives of this place called it the Death Bell, a perfect name for such a perfect killer. There was nothing as perfect as the belladonna; enticing, intriguing, mystifying, and a cold-blooded killer.

He was so intent on the tiny flower that he completely missed the sound of footsteps nearing him until a hand suddenly clamped down on his shoulder almost scaring to death. What a pleasant thought.

"I suggest you keep away from that particular flower. It's a favorite of the Magi. Curious folk, them. Can't figure 'em out without wrappin' yer head in a knot," Jaffery said quietly, eyes casting about nervously. "Best come with me."

With one final glance at the deadly nightshade, Mikael turned to leave. After a minute or so of walking, they came upon a small cottage. The walls were made of a light substance that acted like blocks and the slanted roof was made of a thick layer of thatch.

Suddenly, the dark wooden door opened and a middle aged man stepped out. Upon seeing the two newcomers, he called, "Well, don't just stand there. Come on over."

Jaffery did just that with a wide smile on his face. "Come on, boy," he said, waving Mikael forward. "This is my now former boss, Horace. He's the Head Gardener here. He'll be takin' good care o' ya from here on."

"Pleasure," Horace said, shaking Mikael's offered hand, impressed by the firm grip. "Jaffery," he said to his old friend, "I'll be right sorry to see you go. Took care of the plants well, ya did. Tell the missus and yer sister I' be seein' ya."

Jaffery tipped his hat in acknowledgment. "That I will." And with that, he was gone leaving Mikael to fend for himself.

"Come on over, lad. Let me have a look at ye." Obeying, Mikael strode forward and was surprised when the man caught his right hand and flipped it over to feel the palm. "Well, ye have good hands, I'll give ye that. Nice grip ya had earlier. But are you against heavy labor? Liftin' and carrin' and pushin' and pullin' and hot and cold, eh boy?"

"Um...no sir," Mikael answered almost automatically.

The man's brown eyebrows rose high up his forehead in surprise. "'Sir?' Well, I'll be. Never anybody called me 'sir' before. Ye wouldn't be pullin' me leg, now wouldja?"

"No sir. I was brought up sayin' that. Can't help myself," the flustered youth answered.

"Well no. That's a surprise. I kinda like it. Don't stop," he continued as he strode back inside gesturing for Mikael to follow him into the small building. "You familiar with gardening at all boy?"

"Yes sir. I've tried several trades, but I've got the wandering feet," the youth answered a bit bashfully.

But it was as if suddenly everything was made clear for the other man. "Ah, a wanderer, eh?" Horace said knowingly. "Aye, we get the occasional traveler, troubadour, and the like but not often. I hope ye enjoy the capital fer however long yer here. Though I do hope it's long enough to finish the pruning." He gave Mikael a pointed look earning a chuckle from the boy.

"Now what was I sayin'?" he continued. "Oh yes. Let me show you yer room. It's not much but it's a place to sleep at night and a roof over yer head. And if ye can cook, than a meal. What 'dya say, m'lad?"

When Mikael entered the small room that would serve as his bedroom he was pleasantly surprised. It wasn't big by any means, but it was comfortable. It was about nine feet square and was sparsely furnished. Just a cot with a mattress slightly larger than a twin, a few folded quilts, a pillow, a couple baskets under the bed for storage, and two candles.

In a word, it was, "Perfect."

Horace smiled proudly in satisfaction.

"If you don't mind," Mikael said, "I'll just unpack and spend the rest of the day personalizing the place if that's fine with you."

"It's no problem for me. There be no more work till tomorrow," Horace said. "Market Day is everyone's day off. Take advantage of it while ye can, m'lad. Just so long as you don't leave an' not come back."

"No worries there, sir," Mikael answered with a grin. "I plan on stickin' around a while. Although, I think I'll have to pass on buying anything at the moment. I'm currently broke."

"Broke? I'm afraid I'm unfamiliar with that term. At least in the manner you use it," Horace remarked curiously.

"Oh, it means I've got no money," Mikael said easily.

"Hmm. Ye speak strangely lad" Horace commented. The boy shrugged, entirely nonchalant about it. "Where are you from?" Horace pressed. "The mountains?"

"I told you before," Mikael said, "I'm a wanderer."

"Aye, aye. I heard ye loud and clear boy. I meant before that. Where were ya raised?" Horace asked, curiosity brightening his old eyes.

"With the Gliders," Mikael answered readily. "Like I said, a wanderer."

"A Glider?" Horace repeated with interest. "You mean them flyin' people?" Mikael chuckled. "Explains those things," Horace said glancing at the boy's goggles.

Mikael snickered, meeting Horace's earthen brown eyes with his own. They were a sparkling violet that caught Horace off guard. The Head Gardener had not taken much time to actually look at the boy since they had met just a short while ago. He did so now. Mikael had cropped brown hair that appeared to be feathery in texture, a ruggedly handsome face, skin that had obviously seen the sun, calloused hands, and two very purple eyes. Unusual color, violet. It was not unheard of, but still considered rare.

There was something significant about that color; Horace was sure of it. Although what it was escaped him. But now that he thought about it, it was more than the color that intrigued the gardener. It was the eyes themselves; they were old. They had years of knowledge and life behind them that made Horace feel like a child. A rare thing for a man as old and world-wise as he was. Was the boy Fae? Half-Fae perhaps? It would certainly explain the eyes. Gliders were known to be an eclectic group of people.

"By the way," Horace said suddenly, "what should I call you?"

"Mikael," Mikael answered. "Just Mikael."

Horace gave him a strange look with his dark brown eyes. "Just Mikael? No family name?"

"No sir," Mikael answered. _None that would mean anything to you, anyway,_ he added mentally. "Just Mikael."


End file.
